Deep Poem

I started learning Greek today!
The Greek alphabet is really neat. I'd show you but...I can't. This is not a Greek keyboard.

Here's a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins from this poetry anthology I was reading when I felt stressed out today. (Poetry is a good tonic for stress. At least good poetry is. Bad poetry is extremely stressful.)

God's Grandeur

"The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And through the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs-
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings."

I just love the sounds in that. Especially "...have trod, have trod, have trod."
I'm not so good at analyzing poetry, but I think it's about how used up the world is, except that it isn't, underneath it is tingling with the glory of God. Everything new every morning. Including us, including our hearts?